The fog thickened as the Zenith squad moved into Envale. The air grew colder, carrying a metallic tang that stung their throats. Their footsteps echoed strangely, as if the village were mimicking them.
Allen adjusted his gauntlets, tense but still talking. "This place gives me the creeps. It feels like it's listening to us."
"Everything listens, if you know how to hear it," Robert replied, calmer than his brother. His mace and shield were ready, and his eyes were sharp. "Stay focused. You always let nerves get the best of you."
Allen shot him a look. "Says the guy who freezes up in front of Silvia."
Silvia smirked without turning her head. "That's because he respects me. Unlike you."
Allen grumbled, but his lips twitched.
Eleanor watched them. For a moment, they felt like a squad, almost like a family. Lucy's intense aura cut the moment short.
"Enough chatter," Lucy said coldly, slicing through the fog. "They're here."
The squad froze.
Figures emerged from the mist ahead. They had twisted wings of pitch-black feathers and faces covered with jagged bone masks. Their bodies vibrated faintly, and every movement came with a soft hum. These were Black Angels, servants of Melody.
There were six Black Angels.
Their heads tilted at the same time, the hum in their throats rising into a single, eerie chord.
Robert tightened his grip on his mace. "Guess we found the opening act."
Allen cracked his knuckles, fire sparking faintly across his gauntlets. "Or maybe they found us."
Peter stepped forward with a lazy grin. "Careful, boys. These aren't your regular Black Angels. They're harmonized. Melody's tuning forks."
The creatures didn't wait. Two lunged forward with distorted speed, their claws screeching through the air like off-key violins.
Lucy was faster. Moonlight burst from her palm, a pale arc cutting through the fog. One angel's torso split instantly. Its scream vibrated the stones beneath their feet.
"Form up!" she ordered.
The fight erupted.
Allen roared, his gauntlets blazing as he slammed his fist into the ground. Fire shot outward in a wave, forcing two angels back. "Ha! Burn, freaks!"
Robert moved with precision, his strikes fast and efficient. His mace caught the light, slamming into a Black Angel's side. It shrieked, but instead of blood, a warped ripple of sound leaked from the wound, cutting the air like glass.
Silvia's voice cut through the chaos. "Robert, behind you!"
He spun just in time, raising his mace to block a claw strike aimed for his neck. Sparks flew as metal clashed with the vibrating bone of the angel's talons.
Meanwhile, Peter lifted his hand lazily, eyes half-closed. "Divine Art: Reverie Bind."
A faint shimmer rippled in the air. Three angels slowed, their movements becoming heavy, as if sleep dragged at their limbs.
Peter smirked. "And that's nap time."
But one of the bound angels screamed. The sound cut through his art like a blade. It lunged again, this time faster than before.
Peter clicked his tongue. "Persistent little things."
Eleanor clenched her fists, stepping into the fray. Her Sunfire flared, golden light burning through the mist. She punched through a Black Angel's chest, the heat incinerating it. The corpse dropped, smoking, its wings twitching.
More angels came.
The six angels moved like a choir. Their strikes synced, their cries resonating in an unnatural harmony. Every clash of claw and weapon carried notes that rattled the Guardians' bones.
Robert staggered back after blocking a strike, grimacing. "Even their screams hit like weapons."
"Focus!" Lucy snapped, carving another angel apart with a crescent of moonlight. Her aura was steady and cold, but even she felt the pressure.
This wasn't the true threat.
The fog shifted around them, thicker now, curling like curtains closing over a stage. Faintly, beneath the echoes of the fight, a single note drifted through the air.
Eleanor froze, her heart skipping. She recognized the sound from the village square. The goddess was near, watching.
Lucy's gaze darkened. "Stay sharp. This is just the overture."
The battlefield rang with dissonant chords. Every blow against the Black Angels shook the air like strings pulled too tight.
Allen gritted his teeth, flames bursting from his fists with each swing. His punches lit the fog in brief flashes, like lightning. "C'mon! You ugly choir rejects ain't got nothing on me!"
"Allen, focus!" Robert snapped, stepping in with precision. His mace struck clean, severing an angel's arm before driving into its chest. The creature wailed. The sound stabbed into their skulls before it dissolved into shadow.
He shoved his brother back. "You can't just swing wild. You'll get killed."
Allen growled, glaring. "I had it under control!"
"Like hell you did," Robert muttered.
Lucy's voice cut across their argument. "Both of you, enough! Save it for after we survive." Her next strike of moonlight sliced the final angel in half. Its echoing scream died with the last ripple of the mist.
The silence that followed wasn't comforting. It was heavy and expectant.
Eleanor's chest rose and fell, her flames dimming. She felt the note again. The single, clear sound ringing faintly, untouched by the chaos of battle.
It was beautiful. Too beautiful.
Lucy's jaw tightened. She stepped forward, her blade raised, eyes narrowed into the fog. "She's here."
The ground trembled faintly, like a heartbeat underfoot. Then the fog shifted, parting enough for them to see a woman's silhouette standing far ahead.
She had a slender frame, flowing pink hair, and piercing golden eyes. Her ears were pointed. She wielded a harp that glowed with a bright gold aura.
The note rose again. It was clear and flawless.